The few unlettered men who had been regenerated by the Spirit of God on our Station had a truly marvelous influence on the surrounding natives, and the result was that the entire tribe was won over to a willingness to bestow at least a patient hearing to the claims of Christ. Due to the wandering customs of the people, those who had been gripped by the Truth were enabled, in moving from one part of the country to another, to proclaim the love of Jesus to fallen man. The character of the whole tribe had been so changed that life and property had become safer than in London or New York.
One of the men, who had been born of God and who had exhibited a great transformation of character, was sent, with a large following of raw, young natives, to bring to the Mission Station a caravan of supplies which had arrived for us at the railway. On their return journey, the weary and heavily-laden file of men were entering some dense bush wherein to camp for the night, when they came upon two freshly murdered bodies lying in the wilds.
Knowing that the murderers were probably hiding in the area, the unarmed carriers began to throw down their loads and make for the open country. The converted headman, however, with great presence of mind, cut short the stampede by calling the men together and telling them that he himself had once been a waylayer and murderer, and how he had been led to know the Lord; and assured them that God was able to protect them during the night if they would only ask Him in sincerity.
The convert's plain, blunt testimony had a soul stirring effect upon every man in that company. There and then they all knelt down among the bushes in the jungle, in the vicinity of the disfigured corpses, and commended themselves to the overshadowing care of that Almighty God, who was able to defend them from all the dangers of the night.
In the fast-fading twilight, they set about forming their camp some distance from the fallen victims, and, around the fire that was kindled in the bush, that regenerated son of Africa preached to those rude native companions a message of love and pardon, which under the power of God mightily influenced their lives.
Sometimes months of hard and severe work passed by without any apparent results, but the seed of the Word was being planted, and was bringing forth fruit unto eternal life, in hearts which were seemingly far away from our sphere of influence. One day my husband met in the bush a stately warrior, whom he had seen attending our preaching assemblies more than a year before. This young man with his two wives had moved from our district to a remote part of the country. Grasping the opportunity presented by this casual meeting, my husband talked with him regarding the matter of taking Christ as his Savior, and was surprised when the warrior replied that he had already done so. He said that at one of our meetings long ago he had given his heart to Jesus, and that God had changed his life. On being asked about the spiritual condition of his wives, he replied that now he had only one, having sent the second one away.
My husband was very much taken by surprise, as he was decidedly opposed to the idea of a man who had become a Christian putting away any of his wives, although he always asked young unmarried men to have only one wife. He was, therefore, anxious to know the cause of the disbanding of the second spouse. The warrior replied that before he had become a Christian he had captured his additional wife, on a raiding expedition against the Kikuyu, and after his heart was changed he asked her if she would like to go back to her former husband and tribe; and, having received an answer in the affirmative, he accompanied her to the border of her own land.
We were rejoiced to hear of the way in which the Lord had taught this young man by His Spirit, and guided him into the way of righteousness and truth. The people of the district in which he lived were amazed at the revolution which had been wrought in his life, and were greatly influenced by his faithful witness.
Due to the long-sustained strain of many years of laborious and constant work, my own health and that of my husband showed signs of serious collapse. In the early days, fever had laid us low on many occasions, but when the paroxysms disappeared we quickly recovered our strength, and were able to go on with the work as before. As the years passed by, however, the powers of recovery became weaker and, when stricken with fevers, restoration became delayed and lengthened. At last it was evident that the nerves were beginning to show signs of exhaustion, through the never-ending demand made upon them during the many years of severe life in the jungle. Appetite was failing and, as the days passed, rest in sleep was more difficult to obtain. For a period of ten years we never had a furlough nor any break whatever, and it was quite obvious that there was a limit to human endurance, and that a change to the home climate was absolutely important.
The Lord had so blessed the work of introducing fruit growing in Ukamba, that, not only was the station self-supporting, but we were able to provide for our journey to England and the heavy cost it required, as well as the supplies, ocean passage and support of a stand-in missionary in our absence.
Through a friend in England we heard of a Christian worker who was eager to come out to Central Africa for a couple of years, and arrangements were immediately made for his departure. After he arrived in the country several months were taken in initiating him into the work, and imparting to him a preliminary idea of the language, until, with the aid of my husband's vocabulary book, he was able to express himself to the natives in broken sentences.
We then hastened to make arrangements for our leaving, as my husband, who had been one of the most robust of men, was daily getting more weak and worn. From early morning till late at night he was ever devotedly engaged in the countless and never ending work of a Mission Station in the wilds, literally fulfilling Paul's words by working night and day that he might not burden anyone, while he preached to the natives the Gospel of God.
When we were about to start on our homeward journey he was stricken with severe malarial fever, and for some days lay at the point of death. At length he became so ill that he could not speak to me, and our newly-arrived helper believed that he was dying. Shortly before passing into unconsciousness, while he was yet able to talk with me, he told me that he did not expect to recover; and asked me to bury his body underneath a large tree, where for a long time he had labored with the natives, while reducing to writing the language of the people.
I could not but believe, however, that the Lord would raise him up and enable him to see once more the faces of our children, who were at school, and from whom we had been apart so long. I continued to pray for his recovery, and, while busily engaged in nursing him, I snatched some spare minutes for the work of packing up for our long journey, and getting clothing ready for our two little children, whom we were taking with us to place at boarding-schools in England.
Our four ship passages had already been paid for, and I sent messengers fifty miles away with a letter to the Uganda Railway, asking for a reserved carriage on the last train by which we could catch our steamer at the Coast. Since two days' journey separated us from the railway, a caravan of men was hired to carry there my husband and the children, together with our camping supplies and baggage.
On the day previous to that on which we were to leave the Mission Station, my husband was no better, but rather worse than before, and seemed as if he might die any moment. He was quite unable to give me any message: nevertheless, the Lord assured me that He would remove the fever and raise him up. During the succeeding night the fever passed away, but left him so exhausted as to be utterly unable to move hand or foot. In the dawn of the early morning, six stalwart natives carefully carried him outside the Mission house, and laid him in a hammock which I had prepared.
As the silent sun rose in the east, the caravan slowly moved out of the station, amid the sorrowful farewell words of the natives, who had assembled at that early hour to get a last look at the Bwana. The whole multitude were deeply affected at the conditions of our departure. What an amazing change had passed over that native land since the day we first pitched our tent among its fierce and wild inhabitants. Then they subtly wanted to cause our destruction, while their young warriors now considered it an honor to be allowed to carry my husband's weak and emaciated form.
After two days' marching, the caravan halted in the bush at a little iron shed, designated "railway station," and there laid my husband in the carriage set apart for our use. Although unable to sleep due to the jolting motion of the train, yet we were thankful to God for the wonderful prospect of reaching the sea on the following day. As the train progressed along her track in the bushy wilderness, we found ourselves literally covered by the perpetual cloud of brick-red dust which the train swept along as she penetrated the jungle.
The long weary hours of that day and night dragged slowly by, but before the morning sun had reached the zenith we had arrived at Mombasa, and soon made our way in a coasting boat to Zanzibar, where we embarked for Marseilles. I had a terribly anxious time on the way through the Indian Ocean, for my husband got a serious relapse, and was so weakened for several days that the ship's doctor took quite a serious view of his case.
When we reached the Red Sea our little son, Fred, was also stricken with fever, and remained severely ill all the way through the Mediterranean until he reached Marseilles, where we noticed a slight change for the better. We had a cold, stormy channel passage from Calais to Dover, and our recovering boy, who was covered up with traveling rugs and laid on one of the long deck seats, looked so pale and death-like that a French passenger asked us if the boy was dead.
On arriving in London, thin and weak and worn, we had a hearty Christian welcome at Miss Mason's House of Rest, Finchley Road, N.W., and the kind attention of Miss Thompson and Miss Foord will linger long in our memories.
After such an extended period of life amidst barbaric surroundings, our clothing was so clearly out-of-date that, to save ourselves from being stared at, we had to go away to some stores to purchase a new outfit. This, from my point of view, was very difficult to obtain; for we could find nothing in the West End shops, especially in head-gear, which was not more savage-looking than the war-feathers of the African warriors we had left behind us in the jungle!
Our boys and girls who had been at school had grown so much that we could not have recognized them had we met them unexpectedly in the street. Under the blessing of Almighty God we gradually gained strength, and would have gladly remained for a longer period, so that the benefit already obtained might become permanent. Due, however, to very unfavorable news from our substitute whom we had left in charge on the field, we felt compelled to return immediately to our station. We learned that the industrial work of the Mission had broken down and failed to be self-supporting.
Under these adverse conditions we returned to our work in Ukamba. While at home the Lord had granted us the gracious blessing of another son, the only one of all our children we took out to the field. On our arrival we were received with open arms by the natives, who crowned the hills on our way to the Mission house; and it was quite an affecting scene to see the old chieftain boldly running forward to my husband and putting his arms around him to welcome him back among the tribe.
Soon the meetings were well attended, and the work of the station was progressing favorably. In our itinerant work we had very hearty receptions from the people. In many cases they went round the district and drummed up the inhabitants for our meetings. We were so impressed with the opportunities of work among the men of a neighboring chief, in a district to which there tended a continual migratory stream of natives, that we resolved to build there a second Station. The difficulties were great, inasmuch as there was no building timber in that part of the country, but eventually, after a heavy expense, which were wholly supplied by the fruit-growing of the older Station, our purpose was accomplished.
The chief himself showed deep sympathy with our work among his people, and ordered them to attend our meetings, while at times he gave bright hopes of giving his own heart to God. We had very large and interesting assemblies in the park like country surrounding his villages. To these meetings the chieftain always came with a large group of his elders, and all listened with devout attention to the Gospel message. In fact, throughout his entire area of authority the Gospel was kindly received, and, although there were few conversions, yet fresh ground was broken up and great interest awakened in the revelation of God.
The chieftain, after the manner of most African rulers, had occasional drunken parties; and some of his numerous wives were kept continually employed in pounding the sugar cane, in the long hollow logs in which his slightly intoxicating beverage was made. In accordance with my husband's request he gave up his revelry, but we were greatly disappointed that he fell short of coming to a final decision for Christ. Although he had undoubtedly a sincere desire to know God truly, yet he felt that he would have too much to give up. Like a certain rich young man who came to Jesus, he thought the claims of Christ were too demanding upon him, and "he went away sorrowful, for he was one that had great possessions." From the African standpoint this chief was abundantly gifted with worldly goods, for he had, in addition to numerous cattle, fifty wives and about one hundred and fifty children.
A new characteristic of our work, which gave promise of much immediate blessing from God, was that of ministering to men of the Kikuyu tribe, into the heart of whose country we were the first to penetrate. These people came to us from time to time in large bands from a distance of fifty to sixty miles, seeking work with us.
Because as we had extended the industrial work, with the double purpose of extending our opportunities of preaching the Gospel and making the Station increasingly self-supporting, we received them in large numbers, and housed them in booths nearby the Mission house. These bands of men remained with us for several months at a time, and we found the great advantage of being in continual touch with them day by day. They were most responsive to the message of the Gospel, and many of them found in Christ a personal Savior, and went home to their villages to spread among their own people the news of a Redeemer's love.
In character and disposition they differ considerably from the Akamba. Although more sullen and rude, and less independent and open than the Akamba, yet their great redeeming quality is their humility, which renders them more fitted and prepared for an immediate reception of the truths of the Christian truth. Christ definitely and unmistakably teaches that humility is a condition to spiritual blessing. In all our experience with natives we never met a people who were more superficially repulsive, and yet so responsive to the Gospel, as the Kikuyu. Their immediate enjoyment of Gospel light we attributed to their fulfillment of the first scriptural stipulation necessary to regeneration of heart, which is a ready willingness to admit themselves to be sinners before God. The Lord's promise is to lift up the meek, and beautify them with salvation. "He giveth grace to the lowly."
Many hundreds of these people made their home with us during a period of several years. The meetings we had with them were of no mere formal character. A spirit of real life and earnest seeking after God pervaded every assembly. Treacherous murderers confessed their deeds before God, and rejoiced to know that the blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, had cleansed them from all sin, and that in Him they were washed and sanctified and justified. We have good reason to believe that ere long the Kikuyu tribe, which was once so bloodthirsty, stubborn and difficult to approach, will be the foremost of Christ's front line along the eastern equatorial regions of the Great Continent.
Among men of other tribes, who came to our station and remained with us for long periods, were warriors of the Masai clan. We never had more than four or five of these at a time, as the whole tribe had ever had a keen dislike to manual labor. Many of them from time to time had heard from us the glad tidings of salvation, and, although as a tribe they show no eagerness in obeying the truths of the Gospel, yet we have had some definite cases of conversion among them.
Of these there were two which, in a remarkable manner, manifested the wonderful grace of God. In the very prime of physical manhood there came to us a couple of Masai warriors, dripping with oil and ocher, and carrying in their hands the long gleaming spears which ever constituted their invincible armor. They soon settled down to work on our station, and listened with ever-increasing interest to the words of Eternal Life. Their one great objection to the Gospel of Jesus, and it loomed very large in their imagination, was the fact that the Great God, who knows all things, should place them in the same position in regard to salvation as the surrounding tribes, which they considered inferior to themselves.
Their disgust for these tribes had been so sharp and enduring that, in later years when passing them, and unable to pursue their usual violent method, they have tightly grasped their nose, lest they might sniff the polluted air from the bodies of their opponents. My husband took pains to inform them that in God's sight they were probably more guilty than many of the neighboring tribes whose flocks and herds they had raided.
At last these two brave warriors realized their position before God, and ultimately received into their hearts the implanted Word which is able to save the soul. They became so transformed and so Christlike in their manner and disposition that I am forced to say that I have met few, even among European Christians, who were more faithful followers of Jesus of Nazareth.
They often went away for a time to visit their own tribes, and as often returned to live with us. They formed an incredibly strong affection for my husband. To fulfill his commands they would have suffered any hardship, endured any exhaustion, sat up all night, or marched all day. Not only was their change of heart manifested in their great love to the Savior, but also to men of other tribes, whom they had been trained from their native childhood to ridicule and hate. In fact, their whole conduct before the heathen with whom they were in close daily contact was so excellent that the most careless and unobservant could not but detect the beauty of their transformed lives.
For some time we had been expecting that our daughter, who had just finished her education in England, might be enabled to come and help us in the work, and were rejoiced beyond measure to get the news of the date of her departure for Africa. Her arrival in the field inspired us with fresh courage to go forward with the work of preaching the Gospel.
While at school she had completely forgotten the African languages, although born and brought up in the country, but in the course of a month they came back to her quite readily, and she was then able to talk fluently in two native languages.
The long dry season was then upon us, and the most of our meetings were held under the open canopy of heaven, and the hills re-echoed when the natives joined in singing the Gospel hymns, which my husband had translated into their tongue. At these homely gatherings, where the people squatted on the grass among the bushes, we were often joined by several Muslims who, since the Uganda railway had been constructed, traveled freely on petty trading expeditions through the country.
They all spoke the Swahili language of the Coast, with which my husband was quite familiar. After the ordinary meetings in the Kikamba language were over, he always held a second meeting for those who knew Swahili. The Muslims listened with the utmost attention to the Message, and oftentimes there followed hours of conversation regarding the claims of the soul-saving Gospel of Jesus Christ. The Lord vouchsafed His blessing on these free and informal interchanges of thought, and many of the enquirers were led to go away from the Mission Station with hearts lighted by the light of the Gospel.
On one occasion, when we were passing through Nairobi, where the Government had established their headquarters, we had some very profitable meetings in the Muslim quarter of the settlement. While preaching there in the open highway to a large and eager crowd, my husband was greatly opposed and interrupted by a big Swahili Muslim who had Arab blood in his veins. His distracting ejaculations continued throughout the greater part of that meeting, but towards its close the Spirit of God convinced him of the power of Jesus Christ to save the lost, and he went away with the dispersing crowd in a subdued mood.
Later in the day, at a second meeting held in the same place, the man brought a large number of others to hear the Message, and he seemed both contrite and believing, stating that he had received Christ as his Savior. Never have I seen a man turn about in so short a time. He came up and shook my husband warmly by the hand, and thanked him for bringing to their district the news of salvation through "Isa Masiya," (Jesus Christ). At the same time he introduced to us a bright, happy-looking, half-caste Arab, who, many years previous, had been converted to God through the instrumentality of W. E. Taylor of the Church Missionary Society, at an open-air meeting in the market-place of Mombasa. It was an infinite pleasure to us to converse with these Muslim men who had been released from the enslaving yoke of Islam.
As the years passed by, there was ever-increasing evidence that my husband's physical endurance and sleeping powers were fast declining, and we had great reason to fear that the continual tension of the exhausting work in which he was engaged might permanently undermine his health. Malignant fevers often laid him low, but after a period of recovery he labored on in the work he so dearly loved with very little diminution of either travail or interest, until an acute attack of pleurisy completely prostrated him for a lengthened time. From the devastating effects of this problem it seemed as if he would never fully recover, while insomnia became more and more accentuated. In addition to the unending work of evangelization, which in itself was sufficient to exhaust the normal energies of any ordinary man, there was the continual strain of superintending the industrial work of fruit growing, on which alone we were dependent for the support of the Mission. It was clearly demonstrated that to save our lives the work must be given up, and an extended rest obtained; while there seemed no doubt that my husband would never again be able to attempt to carry on self-supporting Missionary work.
As for myself, the long years of exceedingly trying conditions of life in which I brought up a large family in the wilds, coupled with severe fevers, had greatly reduced my strength. My clothing, and that of my husband, hung so loosely about our bodies, that it seemed as if the garments had never been made for us. Our daughter had repeated strokes of the sun, which proved that she was incapable of enduring the climate.
Having finally decided on the absolute necessity of leaving the field, we disposed of the fruit garden at one-fifth its cost, and handed over to the Africa Inland Mission the work of the evangelization of the district. We also passed into their hands the published books of the Kikamba language, and granted to them the right of reprinting the same, while the director cordially assured us that, with God's help, they would do all in their power to evangelize the territory assigned to them.
We committed to the care of our faithful Heavenly Father the dear people of Ukamba, whom we had learned to cherish with a deep and fervent love. His abiding grace we sought for all those who had embraced Christ as their Savior, that they might be able, in the different sections of the country, to spread their borrowed light upon the night of heathen darkness around them.
With mingled feelings we said goodbye to scenes which shall ever haunt us as long as life shall last: scenes of terrible conflict, of imminent danger, of cunning treachery, of constant opposition, of tentative friendship and of real love: scenes of untold hardships, of inconceivable trials, of sickness, hunger, famine and death: scenes of deep contrition and, thanks be to God, of soul freedom!